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She wanted to hope, but...“If anyone were to ever find out the truth—”
“They won’t,” he promised. “No one will think it strange for us to adopt a child, not when we are both involved with the Foundling Hospital. Everyone knows how much you care for those children. We can adopt two, if you like, to lessen the chances of anyone suspecting something. Neither would be able to inherit, of course, but I would see to it they are always provided for.”
A painful lump formed in her throat. “And what of Arabella? Papa cannot afford to bring her out next year. She cannot live with Cat, nor will Elizabeth take her.” She didn’t know how much Papa had told him regarding how this child had come about, but if he had left out certain damning details she did not want to be the one to reveal them.
“Once she has recovered, she can come and live with us,” he continued. “If she chooses to marry, we will help her find a husband. If she wishes to remain with her child, she will always have a home with us. No one will suspect anything as long as she maintains the guise of a governess. I’ll offer her the choice, of course. She is very young, and she may wish to start anew.”
Harriett felt Arabella was more likely to choose to stay, but one never knew. “But if she married, it would mean the child—”
“Would essentially be ours. Yes, I know.” His amber-gold eyes pierced her. “We would raise it—and the other, should we decide to adopt two—as our own.”
“You are willing to commit to a lifetime of such complication for my sake?”
“I wish you to be happy, Harriett.”
His face blurred as her eyes filled. She had no words. She didn’t need them. Reaching up, she cupped his face and brought his lips down to meet hers in a tender kiss.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Tired as she was, desire began to build within her. Her fingers twined behind his neck, burying themselves in his sandy curls. They had been separated but a day, yet it felt like an eternity. She gave herself entirely to her emotions and to the need awakened by his touch.
A scandalized gasp interrupted them, and Harriett broke away to see that Mrs. Jenkins had returned with Jeremy in tow. A flush heated her face. She hadn’t even heard them coming up the stairs. “More happy news—Lord Manchester and I are engaged to be married,” she announced with a breathless little laugh. “We are to be married tomorrow, provided the weather permits the priest to make the trip from the village.”
Mrs. Jenkins’ hands flew to her ample bosom, her shocked features transforming with delight. “Oh, m’lady! How happy this day is! First a healthy girl born to our Bella, and now this!” She burst into tears.
As Harriett looked at the housekeeper an idea popped into her head—a wonderful, clever idea. “Mrs. Jenkins, I wonder if I might ask you to do me an enormous favor?”
~ * ~
“Before God and these witnesses, I pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest intoned.
Happy sighs and scattered clapping sounded behind her as Harriett tilted her face up to receive her first kiss as the Duchess of Manchester. She glanced over to see her smiling sister, who’d been brought downstairs in a chair and swaddled in blankets to hide her matronly figure. With any luck, the priest would tell everyone how poorly Arabella looked. The babe was hidden away upstairs with Mrs. Whipple for the duration of the brief ceremony.
Thanking the priest, Roland sent him away with an extra guinea for the trouble of coming on such short notice. The short celebration that followed was subdued, but happy. All too soon, it was time to go.
Harriett kissed her sister’s cheek. “It will all work out in the end,” she promised. “You’ll see.”
Arabella’s nod of agreement was belied by the tears in her eyes. “I pray it is so.”
Leaving was bittersweet. As Harriett gazed back at the shrinking manor, she knew she’d never see it again. “I dislike departing in such haste,” she murmured to her husband. “I know Mrs. Jenkins will take care of her and the babe as if they were her own, but still...”
“You’ll see her again very soon,” Roland assured her. “You’re certain she will wish to come to Kimbolton?”
“I am. She has no desire to marry. She told me it would require deceit on her part, and she doesn’t wish to live such a life. She wants only to be with Eudora and to live in peace.”
“And so she shall,” he replied. “She’ll always have a home with us.”
“Do you really think it’ll be safe for her to return to London so soon?”
“I do,” he told her. “No one is going to be paying the least bit of mind to a convalescent.” He grimaced. “All eyes will be on us.”
Harriett allowed herself a wry smile. “I cannot say I am looking forward to enduring such scrutiny, but I will gladly bear it for her sake.” Above all, she looked to the completion of all the plans they’d made.
It was all arranged. Arabella would stay in Berkshire for a month and come to London a few days before Cat’s wedding. It would be just long enough for her milk to dry up, according to the midwife. Mrs. Jenkins swore the application of cabbage leaves and drinking copious amounts of peppermint tea would help speed the process. Already she’d found a wet nurse to take over the job of feeding the “foundling.” A woman from the next village had just given birth the week prior. Provided her services could be secured, she and Mrs. Jenkins would leave for London in two weeks to bring the babe to the Hospital.
The trip back to London seemed much shorter than her journey to Berkshire had been. The old adage was true. Time did indeed pass more quickly when one was enjoying oneself, and being with Roland now as his wife was most pleasant. They passed much of the time talking, for the windows of the carriage remained open owing to the warmth of the day and there was little privacy.
Still, the hedgerows bore witness to several stolen kisses along the way.
In spite of her qualms, Harriett found herself quite looking forward to their journey’s end—especially the part that included seeing her new home. According to Roland her things had already been sent ahead in anticipation of their arrival as man and wife. They would visit her father later in the week.
